


Hold my hands and guide my steps

by prototyping



Category: Code:Realize ～創世の姫君～ | Code: Realize - Guardian of Rebirth (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, how you build a home life after a lot of trauma, post-Future Blessings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28653423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: With the present still marked by their pasts, Cardia and Van Helsing continue to learn the give-and-takes of mutual support, one fumbling step at a time.
Relationships: Cardia Beckford/Abraham Van Helsing
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Hold my hands and guide my steps

Something, Cardia decided, was amiss in the mansion.

The silence was definitely strange, but that wasn’t it. As odd as it was to find the dining room empty of the usual mealtime chatter, as barren as the grounds felt when she walked by Impey’s workshop, and as much as she already missed the familiar back-and-forth of Lupin’s smooth voice and Victor’s soft laughter and the Count’s melodious quips in the halls, she had adjusted rather quickly to the change. These things still weighed on her shoulders quite a bit－she would miss her friends terribly until they were reunited－but the silence wasn’t unwelcome. After a while, it felt less like the silence of _absence_ and more like the silence of rest, much like her quiet bedroom felt after a long day of working hard on something or other.

The mansion wasn’t lacking. It was just catching its breath after the chaos of the last few months.

She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it _was,_ then. Nothing seemed out of place. The kitchen was noticeably cleaner with there only being two people to cook for now, but that wasn’t it, either. Neither was the mansion any less immaculate, even though the daily cleaning tasks now fell to her and her alone.

The place seemed the same as it always had, and yet _something_ tickled the back of her mind when entering a room at times, a gut feeling that something was off.

After a while, it occurred to her that she felt that way most commonly in Van Helsing’s presence. She would enter a room, usually the dining hall or library, and she would smile as soon as her eyes found his familiar figure, even as that _something_ urged her gaze to look around curiously for whatever was out of place.

Maybe it was Van Helsing himself. Even now, well into their relationship, Cardia didn’t forget the striking contrast between the frigid, distant stranger she had met that day at the fairgrounds and the warm, if still reserved man－ _fiance_ －she knew now. There were, after all, still some nights she lay awake in his arms, running her bare fingertips over his calloused palms and marveling that they were so _gentle_ with her despite the things she’d seen those hands do in the heat of battle.

That was likely it, she decided. It would probably take a while still for the last tattered pieces of _Van Helsing the hunter_ to fall away from her mind’s eye and for _Van Helsing the man_ to become the permanent norm.

No sooner had she made peace with that answer did the realization slap her in the face late one night.

It was well after midnight when she climbed out of bed, carefully so as not to wake Sisi, and made her way downstairs. Despite the autumn chill permeating the house, she went without a robe or slippers, appreciating the cold floor beneath her bare feet, the cool air on her exposed arms. Just a few months ago, these were things she couldn’t have. She had yet to take such freedom for granted.

On her way to the kitchen, she noticed that the library doors were ajar, the light of a lamp peeking into the hallway. She didn’t even have to look to guess who it was and why－she recognized the quiet sounds beyond, the low _click_ s and the shuffling of metal parts. Cardia pushed one door inward and called softly.

“Van? Are you still awake?”

She hadn’t consciously concealed her footsteps, but she seemed to have caught him off guard regardless. His head whipped up as his shoulders stiffened, his hands freezing mid-motion where they hovered over the table in front of him.

It was a familiar sight. His shotguns lay in disassembled pieces on the tabletop, along with the handful of knives he regularly kept hidden on his person. Cardia had seen him maintaining his weapons often, back before he had stopped…

...Ah.

_Ah._

“What are you doing up?” Van Helsing asked. His tone was gentle, but there was a hard look on his face that bordered on alarm.

“I was just getting some tea.” She didn’t often stay up late, especially these days, but every once in a while a warm drink in her hand while she snuggled in between her pillows and Sisi was all she needed to drift off. Now, however, all traces of sleep were gone as she swept her gaze over the collection of weapon parts. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you clean those,” she said quietly.

It was such a familiar sight in her memory: his posture relaxed as his hands moved almost mechanically, wiping down and reassembling the pieces with intrinsic familiarity, his eyes locked on the task in front of him even as she knew he remained watchful of his surroundings and alert, always alert. It had once been as common an occurrence as walking in on him while he was reading the paper.

Even when he wasn’t maintaining his favored shotguns, she knew he also possessed two pistols that he rigidly kept in good condition. It hadn’t been strange to see spare parts and tools and ammunition in the open wherever he was around, especially in his quarters. And yet, lately...

_That’s_ what was missing. How did she not realize sooner?

Not once had she seen Van Helsing lay out his weaponry like this since Aleister’s demise. She had noticed before that he didn’t handle them around her at _all_ since then－the only time she saw his guns was when they were strapped to his body as he headed out the door in the morning and when he returned in the evening. She didn’t even know where he kept them the rest of the time. His bedroom, surely, but she hadn’t noticed them in there that she could recall.

Cardia knew why he did it. The reason he avoided handling his weapons around her was probably the same reason he had hesitated to touch her for a while after that fateful night－there was always that hint of uncertainty, a glimpse of unease and guilt in his fleeting frown before he took her hand in his or linked his arm around her waist. He had forced himself past that stage quickly, perhaps wary of sending the wrong message with her poison still active at the time, but even now, his touches were much lighter and much more careful than they were months ago when they trained together, when his grip was firm but not rough as he helped her off the ground or corrected her poise.

Now, Van Helsing couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. He didn’t resume his task, either, but sat there stiff and uncertain as though he’d been caught redhanded in a crime.

She broke the terse silence. “Do you want some help?”

“No,” he said quickly. He might have winced. “I’m almost done. Don’t let me disturb you.”

Cardia watched his face, but as usual he had it almost totally under control. She frowned. “Do you… always stay up late to do this?” She hesitated. “Have you been hiding it from me?”

“No,” he repeated, gentler than before. “Hiding wasn’t my intention. As I said, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You aren’t.” She gave him a small smile, but he only glanced at her before his eyes wandered away again. Taking a step closer, she grazed her fingertips along the edge of the table. Even now, with her focus entirely on him, she couldn’t help making note of the cool, smooth texture of the wood. “Van… It doesn’t bother me,” she assured him. “ _Nothing_ about you bothers me. I promise.”

A low sigh through his nose was the only sound for a few beats. “I know it doesn’t,” he said finally, quietly. There was weight in his words, as though it took effort to push them out. “But it bothers me.”

“Oh…” Guilt pooled in Cardia’s chest. She’d assumed he was only thinking of her. He _was_ , in a way, but this wasn’t about him being overprotective. This was about his own demons. As strong as he was, inside and out, he was still struggling to put the events of that night behind him. That was likely because _strength_ had nothing to do with it－if it did, he would have moved on a long time ago and she would be the one dwelling on the past, surely.

No, Cardia realized, his grief ran deeper than that. The scars on his mind and heart and soul were much worse than those on his body. They still festered. They could still bleed when touched, down in a place too deep and dark for even her to reach.

As much as Van Helsing loved her and tended to her, it wasn’t always about her－and she suddenly wondered how much more she had overlooked in her shallow way of thinking.

After a long moment of silence, he appeared to grimace at himself before turning to her again. “It’s nothing you need to be concerned about. It isn’t an inconvenience. Even if it was, that would be alright.” His hands remained perched on the tabletop, not touching anything else.

“...I see.” There didn’t seem to be much else to say, but Cardia couldn’t help lingering there all the same, reluctant to leave him to his lonely task. Even that was a hindrance, she knew; she couldn’t wipe away his trauma, least of all by forcing her presence on him. That tension in his shoulders hadn’t eased up yet and he still wasn’t moving, as though time had stopped the moment she entered.

Finally, she forced another smile. “Well… I’ll leave you to it, then. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Goodnight, Cardia.”

She wasn’t feeling thirsty anymore, so she headed back to her room. There, she left the bedside lamp on as she sat at the head of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest while she became lost in thought.

Was there nothing she could do for him? If he wasn’t inconvenienced, she supposed it didn’t really matter, and yet… the thought of making Van Helsing uneasy in any way, even if she was technically blameless, didn’t sit well with her at all. The idea of guilt hounding him every time he held his guns, of his making the conscious, daily effort not to expose her to them in any way and being forced to think of _that night_ every time…

Sisi suddenly stirred, poking his head up with ears erect as he stared at the bedroom door. A moment later there was a soft knock.

“Come in.”

Van Helsing entered, now with his usual composure back in place. He smiled as their eyes met, as he always did these days, but she thought there was still a hint of something restrained in the look, or maybe just distracted. Even so, she returned the expression as he approached.

“Finished?” she asked.

A nod. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“...I guess. I’m just not very tired tonight.”

Another minute nod. For a few beats neither of them said anything as Van Helsing stood at the end of the bed, his eyes fixed somewhere over her shoulder. It was hard to tell if he had come here for a reason, or just because he felt compelled after their exchange earlier.

Cardia still wasn’t sure what words were appropriate, if any, so in the end she didn’t force them. Instead, she extended her hand towards him, smiling. He stared at her for another moment, and then his stern uncertainty fell away as he moved to take it.

His hand was warm, as warm as the rest of him as he sat beside her. She leaned into his side gratefully, her head on his shoulder as their fingers intertwined. She couldn’t see his face without craning her neck, but she could tell he felt more at ease now. Emotions and questions swelled inside her, making her feel fit to burst, but she forced herself to relax, to wait. This wasn’t something she could drag out of him.

After a couple minutes of easy silence, her patience was rewarded.

“Are you bothered by what I said earlier?” he asked in a low voice.

She chose her words carefully. “Not exactly. I think I’m just… a little sad, knowing you feel that way. I wish you didn’t have to.”

With a soft noise in his throat, Van Helsing shifted his weight. She felt his breath on her hair. “This is probably oversimplifying things, coming from me,” he admitted, “but there’s nothing to be sad about.”

“But…”

“I won’t deny that I’m still plagued by regrets, or that I’ve had to make some adjustments because of them.” His baritone voice was a low rumble in his chest. Cardia pressed her palm to it, feeling that hum of sound along with his warmth and his steady heartbeat. “But I don’t have to explain such a thing to you, do I? You know better than most what that’s like.”

She blinked, tilting her head back to look at him. “What?”

“Hasn’t your life been a series of adjustments ever since leaving Wales? Learning to live alongside others with your poison… and now, learning to live without it.”

His fingers brushed her cheek. Caught off guard, Cardia flinched and started to push him away on reflex－and then relaxed again just as quickly. Of course, Van Helsing noticed. His small smile was tinged with as much sympathy as affection.

“Don’t you think it makes me a little sad, too, seeing you struggle with those habits?”

She hummed thoughtfully. “So… you’re saying there are some things we have to face on our own. We can’t always fight each other’s battles.”

He appeared to think that over. “I’m sure that applies in some cases, yes. But we haven’t faced anything quite that drastic yet.” His face softened further－into _that_ look, the tender smile he saved for her and her alone. Again he caressed her cheek, but this time she didn’t recoil. “You’ve gotten better,” he murmured. “You don’t jump at my touch nearly as often as you used to.” His thumb swept lightly over her top lip. He _knew_ she was ticklish there, and the corner of his mouth quirked as she squirmed. “You know I’ll do all I can to help you. I’ll touch you as often as you need, until your old fears are a thing of the past.”

She smiled as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He was right. The more comfortable the two of them had become with expressing affection, the more frequent those affections became, and her kneejerk reactions of panic occurred less and less. Those fears still reared their heads occasionally, particularly when she awoke in his arms some mornings and couldn’t think straight in her tired daze, but Cardia had no doubt that they would fade entirely one day. Thanks to him.

“I know you will,” she whispered with a grateful smile.

Van Helsing withdrew to catch her eye, her chin still carefully propped in his fingers. His smile was gone, but she knew his face well enough to detect that there was something soft in the otherwise firm line of his mouth, something vulnerable in his unwavering gaze.

“Don’t think for a second that you don’t do as much for me, Cardia.” His blue eyes studied her, but at the same time they seemed to look through her. Even as he spoke to her, part of his mind was somewhere else. “For you to be here at my side… Just having you near, placing your trust and confidence in me… it does more for me than you can imagine.”

Even as he said it, his gentle grip on her wavered. She caught the glimpse of doubt in his eyes and sensed the self-reproach in the way his jaw tightened. It was the same look she would catch when he started awake from a bad dream in the middle of the night, chest heaving and covered in cold sweat.

Before he could slip any further into the past, Cardia placed her hand over his.

_Stay with me_ , she pleaded silently. _Here and now, where you belong. Don’t go back there again_.

Her grip tightened. She turned her face into his palm, breathing in the natural scent of his skin that she knew so well by now. “I’ll always be here,” she assured him. “I’ll remind you every day that I love you－I trust you. For as long as _you_ need.”

Until he didn’t doubt himself anymore and his nightmares were a thing of the past. She would remind him, again and again, that she was here because she wanted to be, that she had no doubts whatsoever about the man she had come to love and chosen to spend her life with. Whenever he doubted, she would have enough certainty for them both.

She would help him conquer his fear of self. Just as he continued to do for her.

The clouded look on Van Helsing’s face cleared. There was a hint of something apologetic in his smile, but only gratitude in his voice. “I’m more selfish than you know. Even if there comes a day when I don’t need such things, I’ll still want them.”

Cardia giggled and nuzzled his hand. “Good. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

The words came so naturally to her now, compared to how foreign the very idea had once been. As he pulled her even closer and she tilted her head up to meet him, she smiled in what little space remained between them and breathed the words that felt so simple to say, but held more meaning and emotions than she could otherwise hope to express.

“I love you, Van. With everything I am.”

Maybe that love would be enough to heal him completely one day, maybe not. Maybe there would come a time when he didn’t associate any sort of dread with her anymore, or maybe he would bear that weight until the end of his days.

As he kissed her then, with a tenderness and reverence that no one but she knew he possessed, Cardia decided those _maybes_ and _maybe nots_ didn’t matter. Only the future knew for certain. They had sworn to face it together and that was all that mattered, whether they found the missing pieces of themselves along the way or shared what they had with one another in order to be whole.

Either way, they would be together. That was enough.


End file.
